


Baked with Love

by lostconstellations



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, I think?, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, happy birthday langa!, langa compares reki to cake if that counts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29285301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostconstellations/pseuds/lostconstellations
Summary: “Well, whaddya think? I made it myself!”He shifts his gaze to Reki, who, at some point, had laid down on his stomach with his head perched in the palms of his hands. He’s looking at him expectantly, a familiar gleam in his eyes that only appears when he’s especially passionate or excited about something.“Will I get sick if I eat it?”OrReki gives Langa a cake for his birthday.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa & Kyan Reki, Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki
Comments: 9
Kudos: 133





	Baked with Love

**Author's Note:**

> it's nearly 2am pst but i really wanted to write a birthday fic for langa so!! here i am!!
> 
> this fic also has a [russian translation](https://ficbook.net/readfic/10400383/26764307)!!

“Hey, birthday boy. I made you something.”

Langa looks up from his red bean bun and quirks his head to the side. Reki sits in front of him, wearing his signature grin and drumming his fingers on top of a bubblegum pink pastry box.

“What is it?” he asks. Well, he attempts to ask. His mouth is full of bread and his words come out muffled.

“Finish eating first!” he scolds.

He complies, swallowing his last bite and taking a swig of tea from his thermos.

“What is it?” he repeats, though by now he already has a good idea about what his friend prepared for him.

“You’ll see,” Reki says in a singsong voice, sliding the box over to him. He waves his hands, giving him the green light to proceed. “Go on, open it!”He gingerly lifts the lid and is immediately greeted by the rich scent of dark chocolate and strawberries. Inside lies a small homemade cake, the words “HBD LANGA :D” scribed in bright blue icing. It isn’t very pretty if he is being completely honest. The frosting is unevenly distributed, to the point where and he can still spot dry patches of cake underneath the thinner layers. The English lettering is jittery and lopsided, applied with an unsteady hand and squished together in awkward places in order to fit the small surface of the dessert. The strawberries aren’t even on the cake anymore, and in its place are pink-tinted indents scattered along the perimeter.

“Well, whaddya think? I made it myself!” 

He shifts his gaze to Reki, who, at some point, had laid down on his stomach with his head perched in the palms of his hands. He’s looking at him expectantly, a familiar gleam in his eyes that only appears when he’s especially passionate or excited about something. 

“Will I get sick if I eat it?” 

“Of course not!” His friend’s demeanor instantly changes to one of mock offense, slamming his hands down on the pavement and propping himself up. He leans in close as if he were challenging Langa to oppose him. “I’ll have you know that I am the best baker in the whole world!” 

A lie. Reki is awful at anything related to cooking or baking. He would know, he’s witnessed him nearly burn the house down while making pre-mixed brownies.

When Langa tells him just that, he sighs dramatically and flops down onto his lap. He glares up at him, no doubt trying his best to be as intimidating as possible. He just thinks the redhead looks like a cute, angry puppy. It’s endearing really.

“Okay, fine. Mom helped me out a bit. So you won’t die, or whatever,” he confesses. 

“That’s good enough for me. Do you have a fork?”

At this, he jolts upwards (gosh, he was so dramatic) and Langa has to lean back in order to avoid being headbutted.

“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna eat it like that!” he exclaims, flabbergasted.

“How else am I supposed to eat it?” 

“You slice it!” Reki says this like it’s the most obvious thing ever, and under normal circumstances, it would be. However, they are on school grounds, and neither of them are in possession of a knife. 

“Can’t I just dig into it?” 

“What happened to the concept of sharing is caring? Geez, I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice…” he mumbles. (Langa knows he’s joking, but it’s still funny to hear the phrase. He has no idea where his home country gained its reputation for being kind and charitable.)

“If I feed you, will you stop complaining?” he asks, already digging one of Reki’s spare utensils into the cake. 

“...Fine. But,” he pushes the spork away from his face, “you get to have the first bite. Birthday boy privileges.”

“How kind of you,” he replies dryly, and he makes a show of placing the dessert in his mouth.

To Langa’s pleasant surprise, the cake is actually _good_ , making up for its unappetizing appearance. The bite he takes is rich with chocolate, the velvety texture like heaven on his tongue. The creamy frosting is subtle in sweetness, and, when paired with the tanginess of a strawberry, complements the otherwise overwhelming flavors of the cake itself. It’s pure bliss, delivered on a bento box spork.

He reaches to take another bite. As he’s chewing, he muses about how similar Reki is to the cake. Given his rambunctious personality and untamed mane of red hair, one wouldn’t expect the two of them to get along so well. But underneath the surface, or in this case, frosting, is a combination of everything that Langa adores, the ingredients that make Reki unapologetically himself. He was the boy who made a home out of his heart and filled his life with so much warmth and joy. Langa wouldn’t have him any other way. 

“So? It’s pretty tasty, isn’t it?” said boy boasts, breaking him out of his reverie.

“It’s alright,” he shrugs.

“What? No way! You were totally enjoying that cake. You even got seconds!”

“A solid seven out of ten.” He pops a third bite of cake into his mouth. 

“You are impossible,” he groans.

“You can’t insult me. Birthday boy privileges, remember?”

“To hell with that!”

Their exchange of witty banter makes way for loud, boyish laughter. They’re being way too noisy, no doubt drawing the attention of their fellow classmates. Langa briefly wonders when exactly he became this openly expressive, and he finds the answer in the flushed cheeks of his best friend and crinkles of his eye smile. Reki has changed him for the better, and he couldn’t be any happier.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! let me know what you think hehe
> 
> talk rengka to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/asanoluvr)!!


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